


From the Depths

by briaeveridian



Series: A Mythology We Weave [4]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Arthurian legend - Freeform, F/M, Genderbend, Lady of the Lake - Freeform, Magic, Mythology - Freeform, One True Pairing, Reimagined, Rey POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briaeveridian/pseuds/briaeveridian
Summary: When a Knight is given the burden of killing a dangerous creature, she takes up the challenge without hesitation. But seeing his true form makes her question the murderous task. And when he saves her life, she begins to question everything else.A re-imagined Lady of the Lake genderbend.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: A Mythology We Weave [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918027
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	From the Depths

The Knight walks with assured steps toward the silent Lake. No movement mars the misty surface. Only the clink of her armor announces life, a metallic disturbance that snags on the chilled air.

She knows what must be done. The Queen has made it clear to everyone in the kingdom. The Knight also knows she has the strength to fulfill the Queen’s demand. Still, a current of uncertainty loops around the Knight, almost sinister in its whisper. 

Stories about the Lake are myriad and plentiful. The most prevalent concern the untold lives it has taken. Some of the deaths are considered accidents. Others imply menace, intention. Whatever inhabits the Lake entails a mystery and danger that allows some to live and others to perish.

The Knight is not troubled by these accounts. Such stories feed the imagination of the villagers when actual sustenance runs short. Far from being intimidated, she is eager to face the beast that claims the Lake as its domain. 

She has never shied away from a challenge. And there are few she has been unable to overcome in her life. In those rare cases, she saw them as an opportunity to sharpen herself on the failure, further honing her skills and turning the inadequacy into a strength. 

This is simply one last hurdle the Knight will surmount to finally establish her place in the kingdom. No longer an orphan without claim to family, she will be powerful and respected. She will know comfort and a full belly after years without. 

The trees in this part of the forest are old and textured. Their branches twine and reach for anything that comes too close. Each limb stretches to snag on flesh and hair. The Knight’s armor deflects every twig and sun-starved leaf. But the scratch of wood on metal puts her nerves on edge.

A specific aroma meets her nose as she walks. Musty and aged, like soil compressed by a great weight and left to idle over time. The Knight snorts aggressively to dispel it. 

Without warning, something sparks a movement to her left. She pulls her sword and readies for an attack, arms gripping the weapon as she searches the layered landscape. _Too many places to hide_. 

The Knight steps forward with minimal sound and peers through the plunging foliage. Thick shadows collect threateningly. Wind sweeps through the trees and a deer bounds away.

Catching her breath, the Knight forces air into her body. She imagines it quieting the mind, soothing the vibrating tension buried within her muscles. After several moments she turns back to the faint trail.

When the Knight’s last steps bring her to the water’s edge, she sets her jaw and brandishes the well-worn sword. She places her feet deliberately on the bank, firm and steady beyond the circle of mud. Her heart beats harder, nearly thumping upon the chest-plate.

The pieced-together armor, each component stolen or scavenged, is effective in its protection. Despite this, the villagers snicker when they see it. Even the Queen, with her regal torrents of fine fabric pooling around her, simply smirked. The Knight’s shame stings at the memory.

Whatever rises from the depths is no match for her. _I will slay this beast and offer the sword to the Queen, becoming her First Warrior. Then I will have achieved everything I have ever wanted_.

As if in response a sharp ripple darts across the surface. It races to her with intention, consciousness. The Knight stumbles for a moment, retreating from the surprising force.

 **I know your thoughts**

A voice weaves itself into the air around her, lapping at the metal encasing her body. It is multi-tonal and wind-swept. To her disappointment the Knight cannot control her shudder. The liquid voice pours into the curve of her ears. She resists the impulse to bat it away.

**You have come for the sword**

“And to kill you.”

 **Ah, yes**

The presence seems to laugh. But it is a distant, mirthless sound.

She grows weary already.

“Show yourself.”

**As you wish**

An eruption shakes the Lake, splitting the water and sending icy spray into the sky. The droplets hang for several seconds, somehow suspended. She stumbles as the wave crashes upon the bank.

She notices that her arms are raised instinctively to protect from the deluge. Dropping them, the Knight lifts her chin to face the dangerous creature. The air still rings with the din.

A form hovers above the water. It is shrouded and opaque. She can discern the length and width of it and its unexpected human features. She steps toward the water, sword raised in preparation.

The form rotates rapidly as if removing itself from layers of fog. A loud sigh resonates through the space and the Knight feels gooseflesh bubble under her armor. Then she sees it.

The monster has decided to present itself curiously. Its hair is black, reaching to the shoulders. Its pale skin is made all the starker by the dark eyes and moles that mark the skin. 

She startles to see a bare chest. His lower half is still mostly shrouded by the mist with feet pointing downward. Both hands are out in supplication, which the Knight does not understand. She stares at him warily.

“Why do you choose this human form? You are a monster.”

The creature glides closer.

**I am a monster  
But once, I was more**

The Knight studies him, calculating whether the battle will have to take place in the water or if she can draw him onto land. He lowers his head toward her, once again sensing her thoughts. She grimaces. _How insulting. This creature thinks it can distract me by taking the form a beautiful man_.

To her utter consternation, his cheeks tinge pink. The Knight balks furiously. 

“Get out of my head.”

**As you wish**

His voice still ricochets within the theater of trees. The Lake’s surface laps upward, trying to reach his peaked toes. He is convincingly non-threatening in his posture and demeanor. At a loss, the Knight considers her next words.

“Why do you kill the villagers?”

**Because they come to kill me**

“Not all of them.”

He does not reply, keeping his face low and body relaxed. _He will not attack me_. The realization sits strangely in her mind.

“I am here to kill you, yet you remain placid as the Lake.” Anger punctuates the words. _He underestimates me_.

**I will not harm you**

The Knight stomps her foot, then immediately regrets the childish display. Grinding her teeth, she slices the air with the sword. He is too far and does not flinch.

“I demand to be treated like all the others who came to destroy you,” she yells.

**You are not as the others**

His voice has softened as he turns to her. She notices for the first time how his lips are pressed together through the words. _I hear his voice though his mouth is closed. Another magical trick_.

Instead of responding, the Knight runs toward him with sword raised. At once, the ground beneath her feet weakens and she stumbles. The mud sucks at her boots and she grunts.

Pulling her feet free the Knight dashes in his direction. She swipes skillfully but each time he moves just enough to avoid the strikes. _Without effort he continues to evade me_. Her body burns with aggravation.

Breathing heavily, the Knight stops. She glares at him and curls her lips. Through bared teeth she hisses, “Why won’t you fight me?” 

**I choose not to**

She stomps her foot. “Who are you?”

**I am the Guardian of the Lake  
I protect the sword  
But it does not need to be protected  
From you**

She shrieks as rage fills the crevices of her mind. Waterlogged and frustrated, the Knight backtracks and falls heavily onto the bank. After a deflating sigh she looks at him.

The Guardian floats closer, his eyes taking on a new sheen she cannot identify.

“How long have you guarded the sword?” _Maybe I can lure him closer..._

**For many years**

He creeps closer and she tenses herself. It occurs to her she shouldn’t have sat down. _I feel too heavy_.

The Guardian kneels within striking distance. His brow is furrowed as if he’s concerned about her. _No one ever feels concerned about me_. It triggers a unknown sensation.

**Why do you desire the sword**

The Guardian’s voice has diminished further. As if it peeled back several layers of size and scope to expose a purely human tone. This display exposes something she is disconcerted to witness. A softness. _Yet another trick_. 

She has heard the stories of this creature’s power. The villagers would elaborate and exaggerate at will, weaving elaborate tales to scare their children or each other around the tavern. In this moment there could be greater power at work than she anticipated, something markedly sinister. _To make me relax my guard through his vulnerability, just because I’m a woman_. The Knight decides it will not work.

Her muscles tense with a fierce impulse to attack him. Immediately, a different resolve stations itself in the forefront of her mind. The desire to speak freely of things she has not said aloud demands her consideration. It is dangerous to say the truth. And yet, there is a pull to him. _Perhaps honesty will lower his guard even further._

“It is how I will secure my place as leader of the Queen’s guard. I will take the sword and become her First Warrior.”

The entity beside her coalesces, adding density and presence. She notices his chest is expanding, as if taking in real breath. His features sharpen.

**What if there were  
Something else  
You could do with the sword**

The Knight tilts her head at the Guardian. His gaze is fiery and does not waver. It holds a challenge or possibly a profound knowledge. She wants nothing to do with it.

Moving too slowly she lashes out at him. Her sword is useless as he easily shifts out of its range. The sound of her effort resounds amongst the trees.

A cloud of moisture has obscured him as she waits to see the damage. When it evaporates, the Guardian stands above her. His face has turned into a reflective stone, cold and hardened.

**I had hoped  
That you were  
Different than this**

The Guardian drifts back to the center of the Lake. His feet disappear into the water. No ripples hint at his descent.

She stands so quickly she almost drops the sword. An overwhelming regret and sadness twists within the Knight, tightly coiled like her hair beneath the helmut. _Nothing about this is right_.

“Wait,” she yelps across the fluid expanse. His retreat makes her eyes crack and chest heave with grief. _He had hope in me and I disappointed him. As I have everyone in my life. He is leaving and I will fail my quest as well as myself_.

He has vanished up to his hips when she dashes into the water. Flinging her helmut onto the bank the Knight churns herself through the Lake. She shivers from the cold and labors under the increased heaviness of her armor.

When her head slips under the world becomes liquid. To struggle against the weight of her armor is futile. She says goodbye to the sky without hesitation, knowing the rush of this moment was an intractable inevitability. 

A knowledge settles around her, that she was meant to be here, to find him, and sink to a silent grave. Everything has been building to this. Her entire path of orphan to soldier.

 _I was never meant to be anything more_.

Her body collapses upon the lakebottom. Strangely, she thinks about his eyes and the bewildering look therein as she starts to lose consciousness. _Was it compassion painting his irises or disdain_? Her lungs are the only things still protesting.

Abruptly, the water trembles and bubbles rush her skin. A force then propels her up. With a full-body shock she fractures the surface of the Lake.

The Knight is unprepared for the sudden onslaught of air. It engulfs her and leaves her wrung-out lungs seizing. Sputtering and disoriented, she wrestles with whatever is holding her. The next thing she registers is laying on the bank as her vision clears.

After long moments of heaving on the ground, the Knight falls back. Her thoughts begin to organize themselves by priority. _How am I alive? What happened_?

She attempts to roll onto her side but winces as the armor pinches and constricts. Right away the metal is gently pulled off of her. It occurs quickly and she clutches her chest. Refusing to open her eyes, the Knight focuses on the sensation of pulsing blood and leveling breath.

When at last she has the courage to face him, the Lake is still and she is alone. 

* * *

_Will I ever be able to kill the one who saved me_?

The Knight stands near the edge of the forest. It has been days since her encounter with the Guardian. Her near-drowning experience and unexpected rescue left her too exhausted to leave her small house.

She once knew her path, could see the next steps. It was clear what she needed to do in order to find a place in the world. To identify purpose. Now there is only doubt and confusion. 

Her thoughts fill with _him_ , the concern of his eyes and the curve of his jaw. In her dreams she runs her fingers through his hair and feels his arms surround her. She wakes, flushed and embarrassed, for the Knight has never coveted someone, never even took note of their appearance. It is foreign and confounding to see think of him at all.

And now she stands without armor or sword, debating whether to let her feet sweep her toward the Lake or to force them home. _I have no home_. The realization is coarse and painful. It lodges in her throat and no amount of swallowing will relieve the discomfort.

Her fingers are balled tightly. Then a ray of light finds its way through the clouds. The Knight closes her eyes and leans back, feeling the warmth. It weaves itself into her shadowed mind and nestles there.

She is walking before her eyes open. Resolute and sure-footed, she makes her way swiftly through the trees. Today they are illuminated and hide nothing. The sun has burnt off the usual clumps of mist.

By the time she steps in front of the Lake, the sun has retreated and a thick haze of moisture veils the scene. She takes a deep breath. _Once I open my mouth perhaps I will know what to say_. Apprehension takes hold of her stomach, as if trying to wring out her confidence.

“Guardian. I am here.”

Her voice sounds louder, steadier than she expected. Of course, the mist consumes the words instantly. She wrinkles her nose, unsure. _I could throw a stone into the water. But would that be rude_?

The ground surrounding her quakes. The Knight bends her knees to recapture her balance and fervently watches the water. It churns itself into a froth, expanding both laterally and horizontally. 

A shape emerges from the roiling crests, large and inhuman. It is ghostly white, skin nearly translucent. Long limbs curve around the body. She gasps at the sight.

The creature floats above the surface, but this time it keeps its gaze raised above her. Its mouth is open as words storm the air.

**Why have you returned**

She falters as her breathing turns uneven.

“To say thank you.” The Knight’s voice now sounds fragile in the resounding space. “For saving me.” She tries to ignore the web of shame settles over her.

**You are not welcome here**

The creature slowly sinks.

“Wait!”

Her desperate shriek makes him pause.

“I know now that I was never supposed to kill you. I think I was meant to meet you. To free you from your curse.”

A cold laugh gurgles from him. 

**I am not cursed  
I have chosen this**

Her brows knit together. “Why would you choose this?”

**To live with purpose  
To remove uncertainty  
To know one’s path**

The Knight feels an easing of tension. His words mimic her own familiar train of thought. _To commit an empty life to something grander than oneself_.

**You know this truth  
And yet you question me**

“I’m sorry. I understand now.”

Without regard for her tunic she sits on the muddy bank and gazes at the translucent water. Mixed with the sediment are countless small shells of long-ago creatures. Tears collect along her eyelashes.

**There is a prophecy  
That a great warrior will  
Retrieve the sword  
And remove the corrupt Queen**

The Knight’s head whips up to see he closed the distance between them. His voice has softened slightly. She sees a hint of warm skin under his disguise.

“Our Queen is not corrupt.”

The Guardian takes a moment to respond.

**Why does the Queen  
Send all of her best warriors  
To die in this Lake**

His question agitates the Knight. Her skin prickles and heart races as a series of thoughts untether themselves. She stands and paces aggressively. The Guardian watches her.

“But if she is ridding the kingdom of anyone who could physically overthrow her, does that not leave her vulnerable from outside attack?”

**She is a sorceress  
She can protect herself without guards  
But she decided to eliminate  
As many possible adversaries  
In an easier way**

He speaks reasonably. And yet she cannot accept the reality of his words. _The Queen I was going to swear my life to would already see me dead_. It is a brutal realization. But it does not stand out from the other betrayals of her life.  
The Guardian rests beside her, as close as he was on their first meeting.

“It’s true that all of the best warriors have died over the past year. Perhaps, instead of hoping to purge the Lake of the monster, the Queen planned to remove anyone who could bring an army against her.”

The Knight looks up, the color of shame staining her cheeks. “I’m sorry I referred to you as a…” She chews on her bottom lip self-consciously.

The Guardian shifts but does not look offended. To her surprise, his pigmentation deepens slightly. He appears uncomfortable, shy.

“Can you show me your true self? What I saw before?”

**What makes you think  
That was my true self  
And not this**

“Because you are not a monster. I know that now. You are a human, or you once were. I’d like to see _you_.”

He eyes widden in disbelief. And something else. Something she would almost call hope.

The Guarden lets the masquarading skin slip away to reveal his stark and graceful features. Imperceptably, his feet sink to rest on the shallow lakebottom.

**I feared it was a mistake  
To show you**

His voice has lost its murky, shadowed quality. Now, it is soft. His eyes tangle with hers and she leans forward.

“I’m glad you did. Thank you for saving me.”

It is unclear whether he heard. He searches her face with aqueous eyes, his ardent stare nearly pressing upon her skin. She squirms under his gaze. 

The Guardian lowers his head as he speaks.

**I could not watch you die**

“Even though I tried to kill you.” The Knight’s words carry the magnitude of her astonishment.

The Guardian issues a sound from his throat.

 **Everyone tries  
No one succeeds**

She notes his weariness. In the ankle-deep water she crouches and places a hand on his shoulder. He stiffens but stays under the pressure.

“I benefit from their failures.” A hint of a smile creeps over her lips.

He tilts his head curiously.

**You are right  
I was cursed  
But I allowed it to happen  
There was nothing else for me**

The Knight nods slightly, relieved to know him in a deeper way.

“Is it possible to break the curse? So you may be free?”

The Guardian looks at her with in awe.

**Why would you wonder  
About breaking my curse**

The Knight takes his hand in hers. “Why in all the worlds would you save me?” He swallows and works his jaw. Then he wraps his fingers around hers.

**I knew you were the one**

A wild thrill whips through her. Smiling widely, she tightens her grip on his hand.

“Then we shall break the curse and overthrow the Queen. Together.”

His eyes hold a plethora of emotions. They flit across his irises too fast for her to track them.

**Together**

It’s a question. The Guardian’s forehead creases for a moment while he ponders the meaning of her words. His straightens. After a moment he looks at her hesitantly.

**As stories of old say  
To break the curse  
A kiss most true  
Must mark the lips**

The Knight cheeks color to matches the Guardian’s. She nods and sinks her fingers into his hair. A sense of vertigo confounds her as she looks into his multi-hued eyes. Taking a steadying breath and clutching at him, she speaks.

“Would you like to be free?”

**If to be free  
** Is to be in your presence  
Then yes 

A breathless moment seizes them, one that expands indefinitely. Her body is as still as the Lake, holding back a crashing joy. From the depths of him a vibrant elation surfaces. 

Their lips meet and the remaining mist shimmers. Bathed in the unveiled golden sun, the last of his eery glow fades entirely. Within her arms he is solid and concrete.

They hold one another as the sky clutches the sun. When finally they part, a sword floats between them, elegant in its defiance of the physical world. The Guardian picks it up reverently and hands it to the Knight.

She takes it with one hand and grasps his in the other. A promise-filled smile blooms between them. Then they walk from the Lake, saturated in happiness and purpose at last.

**Author's Note:**

> ✨Thank you for reading ✨ 
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://briaeveridian.tumblr.com/) where my SW obsession lives aggressively.


End file.
